Suzanne Robinson Read Online Free PDF

small. The difference in size between it and the rest of her would keep the dress from falling off.
    Ophelia floated over to the mirror while Kate was gawking at her reflection. “Didn’t I tell you that gown would do wonders?”
    “I don’t know,” Kate said. “What do you think?” She turned around in a circle.
    “Oh, lovely, lovely. Only …”
    “Something wrong?”
    “Well, yes. You see, it’s your hair.” Ophelia pursed her lips and looked at Kate’s head. “I’ve been meaning to tell you. In your own interest, of course. I mean, well, the color is what you might call garish.”
    Kate put her hand to her hair and blushed. Ophelia rushed to her and gave her a hug.
    “There. I’ve said it and I’m glad. Now I can tell youwhat to do about it. A chignon.” Ophelia turned to one of the maids. “Minnie, a chignon. And Jane, bring that spray of white flowers for Miss Kate’s hair.”
    It didn’t take long to subdue the unfortunate curls into a ball at the back of Kate’s head. The flowers were brought and afixed around the knot. Kate gazed at the results and tried not to be hurt. She had forgotten about her hair. It was like wearing a fireball on her head. Ophelia was kind to have thought of it, even if Kate couldn’t help the ache it brought to her throat to have it described with a delicate grimace.
    Ophelia put her cheek to Kate’s and hugged her again. They stared at each other in the mirror, and Ophelia whispered, “And now let’s take care of those spots.”
    Kate felt the heat rush to her face. “What do you mean?”
    “Well, we want to cover up as many of those little freckles as we can.”
    Kate tried not to turn red, but it was no use. She concentrated on making her face a blank so that no one would notice the tears she was holding back. She hadn’t known that other people were disgusted by her freckles, and Ophelia was too much of a Lady to say so. Kate swallowed hard and allowed Ophelia to apply powder papers, one after the other, until her face was almost as white as her gown. As she worked, Ophelia chattered.
    “You’ll never guess who called, never.” She didn’t wait for Kate to guess. “It was the Marquess of Richfield.” Squirming with the effort not to jump up and down, Ophelia paused and watched Kate as if she expected her cousin to swoon at her news.
    Kate nodded politely. She put her hands behind her back to hide their fidgeting.
    “Officially he came to visit Mother, but it was on account of me.” Ophelia waved a powder paper and beamed at Kate. “I mean to have him. Oh, you should see him. Hiseyes are the most brilliant green and his hands—Kate, he’s tall and—and everything!”
    “That’s nice.”
    “Nice? Indeed yes he’s nice. Didn’t you hear what I said? He called on Mother, and he’s the Marquess of Richfield. The Richfield lands take up most of the county. Kate, I’m talking about Alexis Phillipe Charles Michael Carlyle de Granville.”
    “All of them?”
    Ophelia tapped Kate’s forehead with the powder paper. “No, silly chit. There’s only one. Those are his names. And there are three or four more titles, but I forget them all. The important thing for you to understand is that he sees the Queen and he owns half of England.”
    Kate smiled and let Ophelia natter on. Her glance strayed to the book of engravings lying on the table beside her bed. She would put it away along with her thoughts about the Marquess of Richfield. Both were scandalous for her to possess. Kate knew a staked claim when she saw it, and Alexis de Granville was well marked.
    After powdering Kate’s nose one last time, Ophelia stepped back to judge her work and smiled.
    “Got most of them. I must go, but I’ll be back to take you down. Don’t muss your dress.”
    With that, Ophelia was gone. Kate turned her back to the mirror. With the help of the two maids, she stepped into her dancing slippers, then they left, too. Kate stood still in the middle of the room, feeling